Page 12 of A Gentleman's Wife

Chapter Six

Marianne sat in the drawing room alone, left hand folded over the right hand in her lap, leg bouncing nervously in anticipation. She’d eaten a brief breakfast with Thomas, where he’d told her the housekeeper, Mrs. Bamber, would be along to introduce Marianne to her household duties, and then he’d disappeared to begin his own. She had a basic understanding of what that entailed, but due to her lack of direct training, Marianne worried for the thousandth time in her life about measuring up to societal expectations. Eliza had assured her that Mrs. Bamber was very sweet, but Marianne had been known to push the patience of even the kindest souls.

The door to the drawing room opened, and Mrs. Bamber appeared, a tall, plump woman, whose red hair was turning gray and wiry. She had round, rosy cheeks and a ready smile, which made Marianne try to relax in her presence.

“Good morning to you, madam,” Mrs. Bamber said in a chipper tone. “You’re looking well-rested today.”

Marianne nodded. “I am, thank you. I appreciate you taking time out of your day to sit with me.”

“Think nothing of it. It’s my pleasure, Mrs. Ramsbury.”

Mrs. Ramsbury.Marianne still needed to accustom herself to the new name.

“Now, you had a tour of the estate already, didn’t you?” Mrs. Bamber asked.

“A brief one, yes, the day of the wedding breakfast,” Marianne said slowly. “Though there was so much happening, I can’t promise I retained it all.”

Mrs. Bamber let out a chuckle. “No, I don’t imagine you did. It’s just as well. I can give you a more thorough tour, and you can take your time to ask me any questions you like to help you become familiar with the place and with all of us.”

Marianne let out a calming breath and smiled. “That would be very helpful. Thank you, Mrs. Bamber.”

They rose together and started down the corridor, where Mrs. Bamber pointed around corners and explained all the rooms on the floor level. It was all very similar to Marianne’s own home, luxurious but comfortable, but then how could it feel so different from her own upbringing? She was at peace here like she’d never felt before.

Mrs. Bamber seemed to notice her thoughtfulness, for she said, “What kind of home did you come from?”

“No bigger than this one, I suppose. Though I feel more comfortable here than I did there.”

The words had escaped before Marianne realized what she’d said, her feet freezing in place. How ungrateful did that sound? “I only meant… everyone has been so obliging and kind since I’ve arrived.”

“I understand, of course. And I’m glad to hear you’re feeling so welcome.” Mrs. Bamber waved her hand before them to continue walking, but Marianne didn’t miss the acknowledging glint in her eye. “Will you tell me of your family?”

Marianne swallowed, wondering how much to reveal. “My parents both hail from Sussex and remain there in my father’s family home. I have an elder brother and an elder sister, both of whom were educated and married well.” She felt comfortable reciting the facts that had revealed nothing of her emotional distance to them.

“And you?”

Opening her mouth, Marianne closed it again. How could she explain the truth without fear of judgement? How could she expect to gain trust in this household if she continued to lie and pretend her life had been perfect, the way her parents had enforced?

“You can speak freely here, madam,” Mrs. Bamber said with a wink.

“I suppose you’re right.” Marianne found herself relaxing. “It was difficult for my mother to have an incompetent daughter. She seemed more a slave to her own vanity than to my education.” She dared a glance at Mrs. Bamber’s face. “I assume Mr. Ramsbury has already spoken to you of my hand?”

Mrs. Bamber nodded lightly, saying nothing.

Marianne was grateful for it. “I never could quite please the masters who came to train, and it shamed her greatly. I’m understandably no great pianist, and I can only paint or stitch with the greatest of effort in my left hand. And I was never given much opportunity in the realm of dancing or riding…” She shook her head. Just the thought of those memories made her shiver.

“And yet, you have caught yourself one of the finest gentlemen in the country, haven’t you?” Mrs. Bamber tossed her a saucy smile. “And no disrespect to your mother, but you managed that in spite of her.”

It took biting her lip to keep from laughing. “I appreciate your perspective, Mrs. Bamber.”

“And certainly there are other things you’ve come to enjoy, if your time hasn’t been spent in man-catching pursuits.”

Marianne shrugged. She had been restricted from doing so much in her life due to her hand and her illness that she hardly knew what she liked anymore. “It’s been quite some time since someone asked me what I enjoy.”

Mrs. Bamber did not seem to like that at all. “Well then… our first order of business is going to be sorting that out.” Her walking pace increased, and Marianne hurried to follow her as they made their way to the kitchens.

The servants bustling around came to a halt when Mrs. Bamber appeared in the doorway, the clanging of dishes and utensils the only sounds in the room. Marianne’s face grew hot, but when Mrs. Bamber stepped to the side, Marianne tried to stand tall, hands carefully folded.

“Many of you have already met the new mistress, Mrs. Ramsbury, but I wanted to bring her here and introduce her to Monsieur Dupont in person.” Mrs. Bamber motioned toward the obvious chef in the room. He removed his cap, revealing a balding head as he gave a dramatic bow with a wave of his arm.

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